


paint me with your watercolors

by lostin_space



Series: quick little doodles [64]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Nebulous Well-Adjusted Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostin_space/pseuds/lostin_space
Summary: “You ever try to draw something not a spaceship?”
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: quick little doodles [64]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1441564
Comments: 17
Kudos: 70
Collections: RNM NWaF Weekend 2019, Roswell New Mexico ▶ Michael Guerin / Alex Manes





	paint me with your watercolors

**Author's Note:**

> no watercolors actually used, i just like the song

“I used to think you were so fucking talented.”

Michael looked over his shoulder to see Alex wide-eyed and beautiful, staring down at his stupid pseudo-architectural idea of what his spaceship might be if he ever got around to it. Right now, though, he’d be okay with a life in this cabin with Alex typing behind him and occasionally playing with his hair.

“Used to?” Michael asked. Alex laughed softly, combing through his curls and tugging his head to lay back on the couch.

“Yeah, dude, look at that. That’s incredible,” he said, his necklace hanging down and grazing Michael’s shoulder. He gulped. “You ever try to draw something not a spaceship?”

“Not really.”

“You wanna try?”

For the first time in a long time, Michael didn’t have to be the one to tell Alex that he needed a break. He closed his laptop and put it to the side. He put his arm behind his head and threw the other one over the side of the couch, biceps rippling in a way that really shouldn’t have been casual.

Michael put his back to the coffee table and began sketching something new on a fresh sheet of paper. Alex was a vision as always, but now, as he was posing and _trying_ to look picture-worthy, Michael couldn’t find words. He was beautiful.

“I’ve never drawn a person before, so you might come out looking weird,” Michael warned, slowly dragging his pencil in a way to make Alex’s jawline. He drew it six times before it even kind of did him justice. 

“I think you’ll do great,” Alex said sweetly, his fingers grazing his own arm as he settled in. Michael gulped and blinked a few times before deciding to focus for real.

The next hour went by quickly as Michael lost himself in drawing Alex and trying to make it perfect. Alex was asleep by the thirty-minute mark. Who knew getting him to slow down for a moment would result in him passing out? Well, Michael knew, but that was beside the point.

Michael drew the upper half of Alex’s body and, when it didn’t look like he did him enough justice, he tried again. He drew him four times before it was good enough and, even then, it was questionable. Nothing seemed to capture the beauty that was Alex Manes. Michael silently decided he would dedicate the rest of his free time to trying to draw him perfectly.

But now it was late and now Alex was asleep on the couch.

Michael put his sketchbook down on the coffee table, open to the page that held the best attempt, before standing up and stretching. He made his way around the cabin, double-checking that the doors were locked and turning off all the lights. He put Alex’s laptop on its charger, slipped both of their phones into the pockets of his sweats, and made sure his crutches were in the proper place in their bedroom. Then he picked up Alex.

With a little help from his telekinesis to make sure it wasn’t a rocky transition from the couch to his arms, he pretty securely picked him up like a toddler and slowly started to head to the bedroom. Alex mumbled incoherently against his neck, arms thrown haphazardly around his neck. This was it. This was what life was about.

Michael carefully, gently, placed him in bed. He hummed a sweet little noise, curling up instantly. Thankfully he hadn’t even put his prosthetic on that day. 

Michael stared at him for a moment longer, taking in the fact that he was beautiful. The fact that he was his. The fact that he got so fucking lucky.

He climbed into bed.

**Author's Note:**

> also on my tumblr: spaceskam


End file.
